The Canary
by ScarletFBL
Summary: Someone is killing the gay boys of Las Vegas. It's up to Grissom and Nick, with the help of someone on the inside, to find out whom. NickGreg
1. Need Him

A/N: This is my first Nick/Greg story, and my first story in a LONG time, so be gentle.

CANARY: An exotic bird known for it's pleasant song and plumage. Until recently, coal miners used the beautiful birds down in the mines to warn them of dangerous fumes in the mine. If the canary no longer sang, signaling it's death, the miners were spared a horrible death, because they knew that the delicate bird was sensitive to it's surroundings, and if it died, they should leave.

Nick drove up to the crime scene, a ball of dread already weighing down his stomach. He got out of the Tahoe and made his way over to where Sara was already accessing the scene and it's sole victim. A Caucasian male in his early twenties. Cause of death; strangulation.

"Hey," Sara said, barely looking up from behind the lens of her camera.

Nick just nodded, not caring that she couldn't see him. He was already too busy going over the scene, himself. He could see a thin nylon rope tied around the young man's neck, still cinched so tightly that it cut into the dead man's flesh. He also noticed other things about the man. The man's appearance, the multi-colored hair, the tight, bright and revealing clothing. There was also a fair amount of glitter in the man's hair, and on his shoulders and torso. I had obviously been thrown there.

The victim was in full clubbing attire, and Nick was willing to bet a lot that the kind of clubs that this man went to, he wouldn't be caught dead in.

They all had been into that kind of scene, the three victims before this one. In all, it had been four victims involved in this case. When the first victim had been killed in the same manner as the current one, there was nothing to indicate that anything amiss (other than someone being killed) because, though no one liked to admit it, gay men being killed was a pretty common occurrence. Unwanted advances, the wrong look, and staunch homophobia clashed in the worst kind of ways in Las Vegas. The man was twenty-one, dressed to kill, covered in glitter, strangled, and obviously dead. One thing that had been amiss, was that a small packet of heroin was jammed down the man's throat. The man didn't have a single drug in his system.

The second and third, ages eighteen and twenty-five, had the same in common with the first victim. They had all been young, beautiful, and into the gay club scene, and now they all shared something in common and more sinister than the newest fashion.

These kinds of cases wore on Nick almost as much badly as child molestation ones did. These young men, who were openly gay, at least in the lives they lead at night were taken advantage of and killed, and it all had something to do with who they were, or who they were perceived to be. Their trust was gained and someone had killed them for it, simply because they lived their lives like they wanted to….The way Nick had once wanted to.

Seeing all the dead gay men and boys just reaffirmed to Nick that he should never give into these urges that he was having, had been having ever since he was fifteen. Yes, he would serial date for a few more years, and then settle down with the nearest source of estrogen and start popping out kids. It's what he was raised to do, to be. It was most likely what they were raised to do as well, but they had chosen a different path. Nick couldn't help but wonder if this could have been him all those years ago.

"So, what have you gotten on this vic, so far?" Nick asked, taking himself away from his train of thought.

Sara finally looked up from her camera. She pushed a piece of fly-away hair from her face. It was already nightfall, and the cool night wind had just started to pick up. "I processed his wallet a bit earlier. His name's Daniel Farley, age 26. He's a native, and he has a couple 'frequent partier' cards in his wallet. I'll bet anything, that if I open his mouth, I'll find a surprise," she said, doing just that. She opened the man's mouth, and with a pair of tweezers, pulled a small bag from his throat. She held it up in front of her for Nick to see as well. "Bingo." She then placed the bag into an evidence bag.

Nick nodded and began to analyze the fibers of the rope around the young man's neck.

Grissom called a meeting after Nick and Sara had turned in their findings. They had gotten one big break in the case. In various places on the victims' clothing, there had been an alcoholic substance, a beverage. They hadn't paid much attention to this, in the beginning, the men had been at a club where alcohol was served, it was bound to be spilled on them by themselves or other partygoers. The heroin and the glitter had pretty much been dead-ends as well, on that note. It wasn't until Hodges had taken a second look at the substance that he realized that it was a 'specialty' drink. All the clubs were known to have their very own drinks that no other clubs had. Sure, the drinks were emulated, but they never came out quite the same, especially if they were made by different bartenders. Only one club had a drink that contained the components that this one had. Club Void. There inlay the problem.

Club Void was an exclusive club. Very exclusive. So much so, that neither a pretty face and hot body, nor a million-dollar paycheck even garnered an invitation.

Grissom needed for himself and another CSI to get into that club, but despite, or maybe because of his connections with the lab, and inevitably, the police, no one like him would even be allowed to stand outside the establishment.

But there was one person who would be.

"Griss, you called us in for a meeting?" Nick entered Grissom's office, followed by Sara.

Grissom looked from the paperwork, and up at him. He got up and came around his desk to stand in front of them. "Yes. You both know that there has been a series of killings involving young patrons of gay clubs?"

Both Nick and Sara nodded.

"Well, there has been a break in the case. Archie has analyzed the substance that was found on the bodies and concluded that it's a type of alcoholic beverage, one that is a specialty drink, only served in one nightclub. The Void," he said.

Sara hissed. "Damn, that place is a fortress. There's no way that we're going to be let in there to analyze anything. The cops tend to look the other way on their 'business'. They don't put up with anyone messing around in that club. Too many powerful people in there doing things that they shouldn't," she said.

Nick wondered how she knew so much about a the club. "Okay, so I get that we have to get in there, somehow. So you want us to, what, go undercover? I personally think that I would make a good sugar daddy," he said, jokingly.

Grissom looked at Nick. "As a matter of fact, I think so, too." Nick almost choked on his own spit. "But neither you, nor I can get anywhere near there without them getting a whiff of LVPD. So, that leaves us with one solution."

Nick waited. "And that is…?"

"We call in the Canary." Grissom wasn't looking at Nick who looked confused, but at Sara, who's eyes widened. He knew that she was dying to ask him a million questions. Questions that he had no choice but to answer.


	2. Just Flew In

A/N: OMG! A second chapter. Who knew? I'd like to thank all of the wonderful people who gave me all those nice reviews!

Nick frowned. "The Canary? Who is that? I don't remember the lab having any contacts under that alias."

Grissom looked at Nick. "That's because he's not, necessarily, a contact of the lab. He's one of my personal contacts."

"Well, what kind of personal contact is this Canary?" Nick asked.

"The kind that would be able to get us into any establishment, he's that good." Grissom said.

Nick didn't know if Grissom was purposely being evasive because this Canary was a shady character, or because there was something that Grissom didn't think he needed to know until it was absolutely necessary, and the guy was already on their doorstep. Neither thought pleased Nick.

"So, when are you getting in contact with him?" He asked.

"As soon as you leave this office and get briefed by Brass."

Nick sighed. "Fine. We done here?"

"Yes."

With that, Nick walked out of Grissom's office. Sara, however, stayed behind.

"Grissom, what are you-?" She started.

"It's the only way. That last DB, that was a friend of the DA's son. The one before that was a cop's nephew. Someone with a lot of power, and a lot of guts it taunting the LVPD. They are not quite commiting crimes that would have a S.W.A.T team beating down the door of the Void, but they're coming pretty close. I have a feeling that if we don't bring him in, it's going to be a lot worse, and it's all going to fall on me." Grissom interrupted.

"So, this is all about you trying to save yourself? Don't you even care about what kind of trouble you could be exposing him to, again? I couldn't stand it if we were responsible for something like that happening to him again," she said, crossing her arms.

Grissom walked up to Sara and rubbed her arm. It bothered him that she still cared so much for another man, besides him. "Sara, it's what he does, what he likes to do. What happened before was just a fluke. If he really felt like his life was in danger, he could always say no. You know him, you can't force him to do anything."

Sara smiled, looking reassured. "I guess you're right. Just try and be careful this time. I couldn't stand it if Greg was hurt again."

Grissom caressed her cheek and she leaned into the touch. "You have my word."

After everyone had left when their shifts were over, Grissom took out his cell phone and dial a number that he hadn't dialed in six months. He held it up to his ear, and listened to it ring.

Someone picked up. /What/

Grissom rolled his eyes. "Is that any way to answer a phone, Greg?"

There was a sound of recognition on the other end. /Gris? Long time, no call./ Greg said. He was half surprised that Grissom had called him, and half not. Grissom had never went longer than three months without calling him for one reason or another, thought the reason was most likely work related for Grissom. Now that he thought about it, Greg couldn't remember a time where Grissom had called just for the hell of it, and not because he wanted him to do something for him.

"Yes, sorry about that," Grissom said, not sounding very sorry at all. "I had a lot of work to do."

/For six months/

"Look, I'm just going to come out an say what I have to say. I need you to do something for me," Grissom said, impatiently.

Greg laughed. /I was wondering how long it would take you to get around to that. You're really predictable, man, that gets to be not so attractive after a while./

Grissom ignored his comment. "I need you to get me and another male csi into Club Void."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Well?" Grissom asked.

/You're fucking kidding me, right/

"I don't kid," Grissom replied.

There was silence again, but this time, it didn't last as long. /No. There's no way that I could make that work./ Greg said after a while.

"And why not?" Grissom asked.

/I could lose all my creds, if I march in there with a couple of stone-faced csis. There's no way that you could pull off the whole 'sugar daddy' act. I'm not even gonna comment on the arm-candy bit./ Greg laughed, but then grew serious. /And I don't want what happened last time to happen again. _Ever._/

Grissom sighed. "I gave you six months to heal."

Greg snorted. /You gave me six months to 'heal', is _that_ what you call it? I don't think that dumping me in a hospital after I was attacked by that psycho, and severing all contact with me for six months is something that would make me 'heal', do you/

Grissom ground his teeth together, a bad habit that he realized he only did around Greg. "No. Look, Greg, I need you. There's no one else who could pull this off. You've got the body, the personality, and the contacts." Grissom sugar-coated his words, knowing that it was the best way to wear the younger man down. Things definitely wouldn't go his way if he said what he really wanted to say. "It's not like I can send Brass down there in a pair of skin-tight leather pants, and expect to be let to be let in."

There were choking noises on the other end of the line. /Oh, _ew!_ You did _not_ just say that. Bad mental image! You just made me spit perfectly good coffee all over myself./ Greg, who was clad in only a pair of boxers, simply took them off and threw them in the vicinity of his room. He went to the kitchen, got a paper towel, wet it and proceeded to wipe off his stomach and lap.

Grissom tried not to snicker, he really did.

/Are you laughing at me/ Greg asked, nearly screeching into the phone.

"No, no. Why would I do that?" Grissom composed himself. "Please, Greg." He waited.

/Shit, Grissom! Why can't I say no to you/ Greg sounded defeated, something he noticed that he only ever did around Grissom.

"I don't know." He did know, but he wasn't going to say it out loud.

/Where should we meet? The diner? Three a.m./ Greg asked. It was their usual place to meet when Grissom needed to talk to him face-to-face.

"Yes, that would be good."

/Yeah./ Greg hung up. He didn't believe in saying goodbye.

The diner was a fairly secluded mom and pop owned business. Despite the location, it always seemed to amass large crowds in the late mornings and afternoons. Even with all the crowds of people that came in, the waitresses and cooks all knew Greg and Grissom. They were an odd sight to behold. Grissom, with his salt and pepper hair, and stern face would barely said a word. While Greg, on the other hand, was young, with blond highlights in his hair, odd clothes and what seemed like boundless energy, talked the older man's ear off. Many of the workers were surprised when they saw Greg come in every few months to have breakfast with Grissom, they were so sure that the older man would tire of his incessant chatter and kill him, he looked so annoyed every time Greg opened his mouth. Greg never noticed.

Grissom and Nick were the first to arrive at the diner. A young Black waitress greeted Grissom, and introduced herself to Nick. She was wide awake, no walking around half dead, like some waitresses Nick had known did. She was obviously used to the nightshift. "My name's Emerald, but you can call me Emmie. I'll be your waitress this morning." She said all this for Nick's benefit. She'd known Grissom ever since she had started working there.

Nick smiled at her. "Hi, I'm Nick." He offered her hand and she took it. She smiled at him. She was a very attractive woman. Nick made a mental note to remember this place. 

She led them over to a surprisingly secluded booth at the back of the diner. She gave them menus and then walked away to go back in the kitchen.

Nick sat across from Grissom. "So, when's this guy supposed to be here? It's five 'til three," he said, looking at his watch.

Grissom opened up his menu. "I know, and he won't be here until exactly a minute before three. I he's anything, he's punctual. Annoyingly so."

Nick raised an eyebrow at that. He picked up his own menu and scanned it. He quickly found what he was looking for. He always ordered the same thing whenever he ate out at diners; bacon, scrambled eggs, hash browns and toast with a glass of oj. It was served everywhere, in some form or another. It was something Nick could depend on always being the same.

A few more minutes passed before the door swung open. Nick looked up, and he was floored, to say the least.

Greg got out of his car and looked at his watch. He smiled. He had exactly two minutes to make it into the diner. He was glad that people usually thought that his 'punctuality' wasn't just finely timed procrastination, which it was.

He'd just come from the club The Deep End. He was still dressed in the outfit that he'd put together to go to the club. Getting information out of a patron there that also happened to be an exclusive member of Club Void took a little longer than he thought it would. Greg dance a little, did his thing with another guy to get Mr. Roe interested. A little bump and grind on the dance floor, a little groping, and Roe was salivating over him. He didn't even have to break a sweat.

Roe was a big man, 6'6", and nearly all muscle. One would never think that he was the spoiled hotel heir of a billionaire. He looked more like he would fit right in at a pro-football game than anything else, but Greg knew better. After Roe had dragged Greg to a VIP room so that they could be alone, he bent over the couch, begging Greg to fuck him.

Any other time, Greg would gladly oblige the man, but he was there for a reason. He had managed to get everything he wanted from the man by giving him a hand job, but the man was still disappointed at not being fucked. He groaned and whimpered from the aftershocks of his orgasm and told Greg everything he wanted to know.

Greg walked up to the diner and shook his hand, trying to get the kink out of it. The man had taken a long time to come, longer than most of Greg's partners. Roe was most likely on steroids, Greg figured. Less work, maximum results. A thing that a spoiled, beefed up heir who looked like a football player was likely to be a result of. He hadn't even had time to shower. He only managed to wash his hands and freshen up in the car.

Greg threw open the door and sauntered into the diner. He took a quick survey of his surroundings. The place was fairly empty except for a man who was sitting by a window near the door, that was currently looking at Greg like he had a big neon sign over his head that said 'Fuck Me!' Greg smirked, and continued to look around until he spotted Grissom and a man he didn't know sitting at a booth near the back. The man was staring at him, but it wasn't a look that he could place.

Emmie came over to him from out of the kitchen and she threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek. "Hey, babe. How're you doin'?" She wasn't even fazed by his attire.

Greg smiled and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "Same ol', same ol'. My arthritis is acting up, and I forgot to take my fiber today."

"That's nasty, man. I don't wanna hear about that!" She scrunched up her nose, playfully. She smacked his arm.

"Yeah, yeah. How about you? How's Jose been treating you?" Greg asked. He frowned when Emmie's face clouded over.

"He hasn't been treating me like anything, lately. We broke up," she said.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Greg looked apologetic.

"Don't be. The son of a bitched pushed me, and I'm not talking about a playful love-tap, here."

"I'll kill him," Greg growled.

Emmie sighed. "Don't. My older sister already took care of it. I don't think that he'll be able to use his arm for a couple weeks, at least."

Greg's eyes widened. "Tracy? Shit, I almost feel sorry for the guy, now. Almost." He added when she glared at him. Emmie's sister, Tracy, didn't look intimidating in the least on the outside. She was only 5' 5", a little overweight, and very quiet around people she didn't know. Once you messed with her family, though, another side came over the twenty-six year old. She could really mess a guy up. Greg had seen it first-hand.

Emmie let go of Greg, and her smile returned. "I shouldn't hold you up. Grissom's here and he's got someone with him. He's a cutie."

Greg glanced at the other man, who quickly looked away. "I know." Greg smiled.

"Well, don't just stand there! Go and sit down. I'll get you the usual." Emmie pushed him in Grissom's direction. "Oh, and by the way, Tracy wants you over for pasta on Wednesday." She went back into the kitchen, not waiting for a response. She hadn't really requested anything. She just said what was going to happen, and Greg was going to do it.

Greg walked over to Grissom's booth and sat down next to Nick, who blushed and tried to give Greg some room, but Greg just slyly took up the space that was offered and sat as close to Nick as he could without sitting in his lap.

Grissom didn't look up from the menu. "So?"

"We're in," Greg said. He fiddled with the frayed edges of Nick's menu. "Me and him, that is." He jerked a finger in Nick's direction.

Grissom finally looked up from his menu. "What?" He didn't look pleased.

"Club Void knows who you are. They have staff that were trained to recognize people like you on sight. This one, here, is new blood. They haven't gotten any traces on him, yet."

"Fix it."

Greg rolled his eyes. "I can't 'fix it.' The only opening that I have cleared for me is tomorrow night, and if you think you can make all traces of Gil Grissom disappear by that time, then, by all means, do so." He leaned back in his seat and put his arm around Nick on the back of the seat.

Nick tried to look anywhere but at the man next to him. Did he have to ooze sex, and splay himself across the booth like that?

Sighing, Grissom sat back and closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Well, at least I won't have to….You'll just have to show him how everything works," he said.

Greg looked over at Nick, and smiled.

That smiled made Nick nervous.

"My pleasure."


	3. Lesson Learned Part 1

Nick sat in the passenger's seat of Greg's car, trying not to fidget. He looked away from the window that he had been looking out of for the last ten minutes and glances over at Greg. Greg was drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to the Marilyn Manson that was blaring from the speakers. Nick looked back at the window before he could look anywhere else and embarrass himself.

He never would have thought that he would be riding with some guy who's name he did know back to his home. A very hot guy, dressed like _that_. Nick bit the inside of his cheek to stop his thoughts. He focused on the sharp pain. It was wrong to think of another guy in that way, he knew. He was past that phase of his life. He wasn't going to let old feelings be brought up just because of this case.

"So, how long until we get to your place?" Nick asked, looking towards the front.

Greg looked at him briefly, eyebrow raised. He turned back to the road. "Getting impatient, are we?"

Nick stared.

Greg rolled his eyes. "It's only a couple minutes more. Keep your panties on." He turned down a couple more streets before he was at his home. He parked his car in the driveway. "Home sweet home!"

Nick got out and followed Greg up to the door and waited for him to open it. Greg led him inside. Nick was surprised at how neat his home was. Everything was in it's place and spotless. When he was around the young man's age, he couldn't afford his own home, nor did he feel the need to keep anything clean. It something he had only just recently grown out of.

"Um, nice place you got here." Mindless chit chat. Check.

Greg threw his keys on the coffee table. "Yeah, I guess. Why don't you take a seat? I'll be right back." Greg disappeared into a room that must have been his bedroom.

Nick didn't want to look in there. He kept his eyes forward and went into the living room and sat down on the leather couch.

It was a few minutes before Greg returned. He threw something down into Nick's lap. Nick looked down and picked it up. It was a very expensive suit. "What's this?" He asked.

"I should think it would be obvious," Greg snarked. "Duh, it's your 'disguise.' I can't have you walking have you walking up in there in anything that the department is going to give you. They'll smell you from a mile away. From here on, you wear only what I tell you to, got it?"

Nick nodded, dumbly. "Where'd you get it?"

Greg shrugged. "One of my Johns left it. He had plenty, so he didn't even know that it was gone."

Nick raised an eyebrow. _Johns?_ "What are you, some kind of prostitute?"

Greg's face darkened. "No, and I'd appreciate it if you kept stupid fucking comments like that, to yourself."

Nick couldn't believed that he'd said that. He'd never been so rude to someone like that before.

The dark look on Greg's face morphed before Nick's eyes into something he didn't recognize, then Greg smiled, lightening the mood. "If I told you I were, would you still respect me in the morning?" Greg laughed. "I think that should be the right size." He plucked the suit from Nick's hands and laid it on the opposite arm of the couch. He turned back to Nick again, this time, with the smile that made Nick want to crawl away to the other side of the couch.

_'Why should I feel intimidated by this kid? He's smaller than I am,'_ Nick thought. Thinking that, and physically reacting the way he wanted to, didn't exactly come easily at the moment.

Greg placed a hand on either side of Nick's head on the back of the couch. He loved the look in Nick's eyes. It was so long since he'd met someone like Nick, so innocent, yet there was something that he couldn't quite grasp under the older man's façade. It was something that drew Greg to him, made him want to tear away at his façade unleash the real Nick that he knew was under there, somewhere. "Why don't we get down to the real reason Gil wanted you to come here."

Nick's eyes widened. "Wh-what do you mean?" He stammered, looking up into Greg's eyes.

Greg stepped forward and put his knees on either side of hips, straddling him. He leaned forward and whispered in Nick's ear. "Do you know what they do in Club Void?" Greg asked.

Nick couldn't withhold the gasp that escaped him as he felt Greg's warm breath along his neck. "Dance and drink?"

Greg chuckled. Nick shivered, the vibrations sent a sensation throughout his body that seemed to center in one very sensitive place.

"Yes, they do that, but do you know what else?" Greg pressed his chest against Nick's, bringing their groins together.

Nick's higher brain functions seemed to be shutting down. He groaned. "Play cards?"

"Haha, you're funny, but no." Greg pulled his head back and looked into Nick's eyes once again. He grasped the sides of Nick's face. "Why don't I just show you, hm?" He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Nick's.

Nick gasped. This wasn't right. Why wasn't he pushing Greg away, punching him, anything? He only closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss.

Greg used this as an opportunity to plunder Nick's mouth, tasting him in a sensuous dance of tongues. He removed his hands from the back of the couch and let them wander down Nick's body once Nick had started to respond. He lifted up Nick's shirt and caressed the hard washboard stomach he found underneath.

When the need for air got to be too much for him, Greg pulled back and nipped along Nick's jaw and sucked at his neck. "Are you getting an idea of what I'm talking about?" He ground himself against Nick. Nick was hard, and so was he.

Nick leaned his head back to give him better access. "Uh, yeah, but I'm not so sure."

Greg smiled. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. "Oh? Then let me make myself a little more clear…." He slid off of Nick's lap and onto the floor. He separate Nick's knees and situated himself in the V of his lap. He reached for Nick's belt buckle.

Nick rested his head against the back of the couch, his eyes tightly shut, afraid to look down. He could hear and feel Greg fumbling with his buckle. Greg unbuckled it and unzipped his pants. The zipper sounded like a freight train to Nick's ears. Nick's eyes snapped open. He still refused to look down, though. He gasped and then moaned when Greg reached into his pants and pulled out his cock, his warm breath caressing the head. So gently, that Nick almost missed it, Greg placed a tender kiss on the tip.

Greg felt confident that he could do this to Nick without any protection. He was clean, and he knew for a fact that the CSIs were subjected to mandatory, periodical blood testing. If Nick had anything, Grissom would have never given him this job. He licked over the head and was satisfied with she shudder that ran up the other man's body. He took the head into his mouth and suckled there for a moment, enjoying the moans coming from above, memorizing yet another taste of Nick in his mouth and the feeling of him. Greg took more of him into his mouth until Nick hit the back of his throat and he relaxed his throat muscles, allowing Nick to slide further into the hot cavern of his mouth until his nose rested in his fragrant curls. He began to bob his head up and down, dragging his tongue along the vein underneath, his hand stroking the part of Nick's cock that was revealed as he bobbed up. It wasn't long before Nick was straining and wiggling against the couch. He was close.

Nick could feel his body trembling and his balls tighten and his climax neared. Everything was so intense at that split second before he went over the edge. He couldn't help himself as he looked down as his lap. He grabbed at the couch as he finally tumbled over the edge and screamed his release. He almost came again when he could see and feel Greg swallowing his cum.

Greg pulled away and allowed the now limp member to fall from his mouth. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He looked up at Nick.

"And that's only on the weekdays…."

Nick walked into his own room and fell face-first onto the bed. He was tired and jittery at the same time. After what had just happened tonight, Nick didn't know if he wanted to go to sleep because, surely, it would replay itself over and over in his dreams. Staying awake wasn't such a great option, either, for that same reason.

Greg had driven Nick home. He'd left the suit and equally expensive shoes with Nick, telling him to be ready for tomorrow night.

Nick flopped over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't believe that he'd just let a man give him a blow job. He turned onto his side and grumbled. It was all Grissom's fault. He must have known that this was going to happen.

Nick sighed again, and flopped back onto his back. So, sleep wasn't an option. He settled for watching the ceiling until it lightened with the first rays of sunlight.

Peeks Did I scare you guys with the 'sex scene'? I usually suck when I try to do these, but I think I did okay with this one.


	4. Lesson Learned Part 2

-1It was about 6:30 a.m. when he decided that he'd had enough of ceiling-watching and he wanted to move. He got up and groaned as the muscles in his back protested the movement. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He set the water higher than he normally preferred and stripped, getting inside and shutting the shower door behind him. At first, the hot water irritated his skin and he wanted to smack himself for setting the water so high, but then he slowly adjusted to the heat. He grabbed a washcloth and a bar of soap and used the bar of soap to lather up the washcloth. He began to wash himself.

He started on his chest and then moved down to his arms, and then moved back up to his neck and abdomen. He scrubbed his feet and legs and continued up to wash his rear end. He held the washcloth between his knees and reached over to get the shampoo. He squirted some onto his hand and put the bottle back. He quickly lathered up his hair and then rinsed out the suds. He sloshed water over his face and rubbed his face a little. He reached down and got the washcloth from between his knees. He looked down at himself.

He'd been trying to avoid washing himself there. He didn't want to touch himself and remember the previous night. The Canary had been down there. He had been…

Nick turned his head away as the image of the other man kneeling between his thighs flashed through his mind. He shuddered. He could do this. He wouldn't let some other man control his life after meeting him just one time. He quickly ran the washcloth over himself. Shit. He stared down at himself once again. He was getting hard.

He sighed and took himself in his hand and began to stroke up and down. He began to think about every woman that he'd ever had a relationship with. Their breasts, their thighs wrapped around him, their soft moans, and their hot, moist insides. His mouth opened in an 'o' of pleasure and he spent his essence down the shower drain. He nearly cried with relief. He could still come when he was thinking about women. He'd thought for sure, that after last night, he wouldn't be able to. He wasn't becoming like he once was. He didn't ever want to be like i that /i again.

He rested his head on the shower tile and let the water run over him until it ran cold.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Greg, on the other hand, had gotten the best night of sleep he'd had in weeks. He knew that it was all thanks to Nick. Not that the other man cared to notice, but he wasn't the only one that had cum last night. The feel of the other man in his mouth, the taste of him, and the sound of the moans coming from above him had brought him off as well. He had been rubbing himself through his pants the whole time, which helped, but he had never cum by just rubbing himself outside of his clothes like that before.

He would have taken things further, just because he could, but he could already tell that Nick had some issues with being sucked off by him. The man had looked like he was about fly off the couch last night, and Greg knew that it wasn't purely from pleasure.

Greg sighed and sat up in his bed. He put his face in his hands and rubbed away the sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he had woken up thinking about one of his conquests. Was that what Nick really was? They hadn't had sex. Yeah, he'd given Nick a blowjob, but did that really count for anything, these days? Greg didn't know, anymore. One night, and already the man was getting to him. He knew next to nothing about Nick. Only what he'd managed to dig up before he came to the diner.

Name: Nicolas Stokes. Parents: William and Jillian Stokes. Siblings: Six siblings; One older brother, five older sisters. More names than Greg cared to remember. There was nothing about what Nick did on the weekends, who he hung out with, or past lovers in the CSI database. At least, nothing that would be available to the public, and since those fateful events four years ago, he was now the 'public'.

He hated to remember his days as a CSI in training, but memories reappeared everyday, as if taunting him. He hated how he had failed every test., every trail. For the first time in his life, there was a dead end down the path to his future. He was so disappointed that he hadn't made it. Sara, who had been a fellow trainee, had passed with flying colors. She had tried to console him, saying that he could try again, but her words meant nothing to him. Her future was secure. She had passed. He had failed i three /i times. She got to have Grissom as her supervisor. Him, he could never get as close to Grissom, no matter how hard he tried. He doubted that making the team would have changed the older man's opinion of him, but he had to try. Grissom was the last thing holding him together. He gave Greg jobs to do. Some were seedier than others, but at least he didn't have to crawl home to his parents. Not after they had disowned him when they found out he was gay.

Grissom…Greg sighed again, just thinking about the other man.

He shook his head and got out of bed. He was going to take a shower and call Grissom. After that…things would just have to run their course. He took a shower and dressed in a pair of boxers. He walked into the kitchen, still toweling his hair dry and started to make some coffee. While the coffee maker started doing it's thing, he went picked up the phone. He dialed Grissom's number.

/Grissom./ Grissom picked up on the second ring.

"Hey, Griss, it's me. I'm just calling to check in." He leaned again the counter and watched a weak trickle of brown liquid fall into the carafe, stop, and then the machine started to gurgle and hiss up a storm. The machine was old, but he liked it.

/Yes? And? I don't have time for you to draw things out. Just tell me what you want to tell me, so I can get back to work/ Grissom said, impatiently.

Greg rolled his eyes. "You can't let me be coy just a i little /i bit?"

Grissom snorted. /You don't have an ounce of coy in your body/ he said.

"Yeah, well, I can always act like it, can't I? No one has to know but you and me," Greg said, conspiratorially.

/Greg, get on with it./

"Alright, fine. I brought Nick over, I gave him some new threads. I drove him home and I went to bed. You fill in the rest."

/Did you sleep with him/ Grissom asked.

"No, Mr. Blunt and to the Point, I didn't." He sighed. i 'Not yet, anyway,' /i He thought to himself. "Fuck! Where did you get that guy? You couldn't have gotten me someone who was at least gay? At least, I don't think he is….he could just be in some serious denial, which is even worse. I couldn't even touch him without him tensing up, much less do anything as invasive as sex."

Grissom sighed. /I know that he's a bit skittish about the whole sex thing, but you have to do it-/

"I i know /i , I-"

/Because, if you have to perform in the club, which I suspect you will, he can't go freezing up on you/ Grissom finished.

Greg rubbed his hand over his face. He looked over at the coffee maker. It was done. He reached into the cabinet and got a mug. He filled it up with coffee. He took a sip. "Okay," he finally said. "I'll do it tonight, before we have to go to the club. I want you to call him, though. I suspect that if I call him, he'll know what's up. I don't want him even more stressed out than he has to be."

/That is a good idea. I'll tell him to come over to your place./

"Okay." He started to take another sip of coffee.

/Oh, and Greg…/

"Yeah?"

/I think that he'll be there/ Grissom said.

Greg frowned. "He who? What are you talking…." It suddenly came to him. "No! No fucking way," He yelled into the phone. "Are you sure?"

/I'm almost positive./

Greg was quiet for a long time. He started to shake. "I want out. There's no fucking way that I'm doing this with him there. I can't. I won't."

/Greg, you're just going to have to get over it for right now-/ Grissom started.

"Don't you fucking tell me to get over it! Let him do to you what he did to me and try to say that again." Greg yelled.

Grissom ground his teeth together. /Okay. That was the wrong choice of words./

"No i. shit /i , Sherlock!"

Grissom suspected that he was really going to need some dental work after this call. /Don't be like that, Greg. I need you on this one. I'm counting on you. Don't make me beg./

"Why shouldn't I?" Greg asked.

/Are you still going to do it, or not/ Grissom asked.

Greg slammed down his coffee, not caring that the hot liquid splashed out onto his hand. He ignored the burning. "You'd better pay me so fucking much for this one, Griss. I mean it. i Shit loads! /i " He hung up the phone and threw it across the kitchen. He put his head in his hands. He drew in a shuddering breath. Images from one night so long ago flashed through his mind. The pain, the sweat, the tears…and the blood.

He rushed over to the sink and dry-heaved. He stepped back and put his hands on the counter. He put them close together and rested his head on them. He took in a slow breath and exhaled. His stomach seemed to settle itself. He stood back up and turned on the faucet, splashing water on his face. He turned the faucet back off. He looked at the clock on the microwave. It read 10:34 a.m.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nick held the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. He glanced over at the clock in his dashboard. It read 7:53 p.m. He sighed and put his foot down on the accelerator just a little bit more. He was due at Greg's house at eight, but he wasn't in much of a rush to get there. After a heated argument with Grissom over the phone about Greg's little lesson in clubbing etiquette, he had reluctantly agreed to come back to the other man's house. Grissom had been very persuasive.

Two minutes before eight, Nick pulled up in front of the other man's house. He parked across the street and had to walk the rest of the way to the doorstep. He looked at the door for a long time, his hand poised to knock, but it never did.

The door swung open to reveal Greg standing in the doorway, clad in only a pair of tight, faded gray jeans, resting dangerously low on his hips.

"Exactly how long are you planning to stand there, admiring my door?" He asked, looking at Nick.

Nick's hand dropped down to his side. He looked into Greg's eyes. At that moment, seeing Greg half naked, everything that had happened the other night chose to flash through his mind. He groaned and looked away, biting his lip, the images too much for him.

"Oh, fuck this." He heard a moment before he was grabbed by the front of his jacket and pulled into the house.

Greg took one look at the man, heard him groan, and he knew what he was thinking. Maybe Nick wasn't as straight at he'd thought. Now wasn't the time to be asking himself that question, though. He pulled a stunned Nick into his house by the front of his jacket and kicked the door closed behind him. He pushed Nick back into the door.

Nick looked up into Greg's eyes. i 'Shit, he's actually taller than me. I hadn't noticed that before.' /i He thought. "What are you doing?" He asked out loud.

"Something I should have done last night, but I didn't want to scare you away," Greg said, huskily.

Nick would have laughed had he been in any other situation. "And this supposed to be scary, grabbing my by the front of my jacket, throwing me up against the door? How very caveman of you." This was not the time to try be funny, but he didn't know what else to do. He was stalling for time from what he knew was inevitable, but his body just wouldn't seem cooperate, to move. Did he even want it to? Greg felt so good against his body. i 'No! Fuck, no! I am not thinking about how good another man's body feels against mine!' /i 

Greg laughed. "So, you have a sense of humor. Too bad we won't be having much use for it until later tonight." He leaned in and kissed Nick. His hands were already busy divesting Nick of his jacket. He pulled away and lifted Nick's shirt over his head. He took a split second to take in Nick's clenched eyes, harsh breathing, and arms pinned down to his sides before kissing him again. He ran his hands down Nick's arms and came down to his clenched fist. He pried them apart and placed them on his waist.

At the feeling of Greg's chest against his own, his own hands on Greg's slender waist, he abandoned all reasons not to, and opened his mouth to accept the kiss. He crushed the other man to him.

Greg grunted a little. Nick was holding him too tightly, but he was exactly where he wanted to be and he wasn't going to stop Nick from doing anything that he wanted. He wrapped his arms around the other man and allowed his mouth to be plundered.

He started to pull Nick towards his bedroom and, thankfully, the other man allowed himself to be led there. When the back of his legs bumps against his bed, he let himself fall back, bringing Nick along with him. He started to run his arms along the other man's back, enjoying the feel of solid, well defined muscles underneath his fingertips. He ground himself into Nick, and Nick was doing the same, but it just wasn't enough. It made his hunger even worse for the other man. He pulled away.

"Lay down near the head of the bed," he said.

"What?" Nick's pupils were dilated to where they were almost black. He looked confused, like he didn't understand what Greg was saying to him.

"I said 'lay down near the head of the bed,'" Greg repeated.

Nick nodded dumbly and slid off of Greg and laid on his back at the head of the bed.

Greg stood up and walked around the bed. He walked over to the nightstand and pulled out a tube.

Nick's eyes widened. He knew very well what was inside.

Greg saw his look and smiled. "Oh, so you already know what lube is, huh? I guess that you would have known what it was, regardless, since it's not just a gay thing." He tossed it down onto the bed. He peeled off his pants in one smooth motion. His boxers and long ago been ditched. He only wore them around the house when he didn't feel like getting dressed. He stood there and allowed Nick to ogle him for a moment. He wasn't shy or modest in the least.

Nick swallowed when he got an eyeful of Greg. His eyes landed on Greg's cock. The man was well endowed, more so than Nick would have thought. When he would have thought of the size of Greg's cock, he didn't know.

Greg knew what he was thinking. "Don't worry. We're not doing that, tonight. You get the honor of being inside me. Lucky you."

Nick let out a sigh of relief.

"Or, should I say, lucky me? You're i very /i well endowed yourself, if I remember correctly," Greg said. He decided to end the teasing and got on the bed and straddled Nick's legs. He unbuckled his belt and threw it off to the side. He then started to unbutton his pants. He started to pull them down. "Lift your hips," he said.

Nick did so.

Greg removed his pants and then moved back up to remove his boxers. He slid those off as well. He looked down at Nick's erection, lying full and hard against his belly. He reached down and stroked it a few times. Nick shuddered and moaned. Greg stopped. He could tell that the other man was already teetering near the edge, and he didn't want it to end too soon, at least not before he got his. He reached over and picked up the lube. He covered two fingers in the slick substance. He straddled Nick's hips before he lifted up and started to prepare himself. The two finders slid in with a bit of resistance, but he pushed past it until his fingers were fully sheathed. He carefully started to scissor them inside of himself, careful to avoid his prostate. Nick wasn't the only one that was close. By the time he added a third finger, he was more than ready.

He removed his fingers and reached for the lube again. This time, he put some into the palm of his hand and began to slick Nick's cock. He threw the bottle to the floor and positioned Nick at his entrance.

Nick reached up to stop him. "Wait," he said, breathlessly. "What about condoms?"

Greg looked at Nick. "I know for a fact that Grissom has everyone on his team tested regularly," he said. "And I'm clean. I'm in the habit of getting tested regularly, myself. I usually use condoms, too, but you're an exception." Greg hoped that Nick wouldn't ask him why he was. He didn't really know, himself.

Nick nodded and rested his hands on Greg's hips.

Greg slowly started to lower himself down onto Nick's cock. He winced a little when the head passed through his ring of muscle, but the pain soon faded away to a slight burn. This kind of burn, he could handle. He continued to lower himself down, pausing once or twice to give himself a little time to adjust, until Nick's cock was balls deep inside of him.

Nick groaned and gave Greg's hips a little squeeze. He was so tight. Tighter than anyone he'd ever been with. It was taking all he had not cum right then.

Greg leaned forward and took Nick's chin in his hand, the other, planted on the pillow next to Nick's head. "Hey, don't cum right now. Try and hold it. In the club, you're judged by your 'performance'. You cum too quickly, and we'll lose some privileges. They'll think you're a rookie, a fake. Do you want that?" He asked.

"No." Nick shook his head.

"Okay, then." Greg placed both of his hands on Nick's chest and slowly lifted up and then lowered himself back down. He began riding Nick a little faster each time Nick's cock brushed past his prostate, clenching his inner muscles every time he lifted himself. He threw his head back and moaned, wantonly.

Nick couldn't believe this was happening to him. He was having sex with a i man /i , and it felt so right, better than anything he'd ever forced himself to do. He planted his feet flat down on the bed and began meeting Greg's downward thrusts with upward thrusts of his own.

Greg screamed when Nick's cock started banging into his sweet spot even harder than before. It felt so good, and he wished that he could touch himself, but he knew that arm candy wasn't allowed to touch themselves without their sugar daddy's permission in the club. His nails dug into Nick's pecs. Nick didn't notice. "Nick… -mmm- Nick, please, -oh- I need you to tell me that I can touch myself! I'm not -uhn- allowed -heh- to do it…without your permission! Fuck!"

It took a moment for Greg's words to penetrate Nick's fogged, pleasure-filled mind. "I give….you can touch yourself!" He managed to ground out. He started thrusting harder, knowing that the other man was probably not going to last once he started to stroke himself. He was right.

Greg had only managed to stroke himself three times before his climax hit him. He came all over his hand and Nick's stomach and chest. His inner muscles clenched like a vice grip around Nick, milking his orgasm from him soon after. Greg collapsed forward onto Nick's chest, not even caring that he was getting sticky with his own cum. He whole body rose and fell with each harsh breath Nick took, not to mention his own. Nick held him and they just laid there for a moment to collect themselves. Greg and Nick both sighed when Nick's spent cock slipped out of him.

Greg rolled off of him and onto his back. He threw his arm across his eyes. "I think you're ready," he said after a while. "Just give me a minute, and then we'll get dressed and head to the club."

A/N: Oh. My. GOD! XD Can it be! Is it i really /i ! I think it is. SMUT! I'm begging you guys' forgiveness for my super late update, so I gave you guys a treat for putting up with me. Now, if only I could get my cheeks from being so red….nn"!


	5. In Da Club

Title: In Da Club

A/N: I'm sorry about the title. Teehee. I couldn't help myself! smiles"

The only sound in the room was the sound of their panting breaths reverberating off the walls.

Greg sat up after a long moment and looked aver at Nick. He still had his eyes tightly shut and he was breathing slowly and silently, like he was afraid that Greg would notice him there if he breathed too hard. Greg sighed. He'd hoped to pull Nick out of his shell, but it only seemed to serve to make him even more apprehensive. He rubbed his hand over his forehead. There was nothing he could do about it now. It was nearly time for them to go. They were too new to the club, and arriving fashionably late would seem a bit too pretentious.

He stood up and stretched. His nose wrinkled. He always used condoms before, and hadn't thought about it while he was having sex with Nick, but having someone else's cum dribble out of you wasn't all that pleasant. He looked over at Nick again.

"Hey, I'm going to take a shower. You can hop in after me, okay?" Greg said.

Nick opened his eyes, but only looked up at the ceiling. He nodded.

Greg shrugged and walked out of his room and into the bathroom and cut on the shower and got in.

Back in the room, Nick let out a long breath and let loose the grip he had on the sheets. He hands were damp as well as the sheets where his hands once were. He rubbed his hands on the sheets to dry them. He sat up and placed his feet on the floor. He put his head in his hands. He wanted to feel something about what had just happened, anything, but his mind seemed to be a complete blank in the emotional department. He vaguely thought that this wasn't good, but what could he do about it?

He got up and picked up his boxers. They were balled up in front of the dresser at the foot of the bed. He used them to wipe off his crotch and torso. He dropped them on the bed and picked up his pants and put them on. He pulled on his shirt and shoes as well. He picked up his keys and then went outside to his car and got out the suit and shoes that Greg had given him the other night. He checked it and made sure the mini evidence kit he put in the inside pocket of the suit coat was still there. It was. He went back into the house and walked by the bathroom. Greg was still in there, but the water had been shut off. He walked into the living room and sat on the couch and waited for Greg to come out.

After a few moments, Greg came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips, steam billowing out after him.

Nick stood up. "I hope you left me some hot water."

Greg jumped a little. He was both surprised that Nick was waiting in the living room, and that he had actually spoken to him so casually. A soft smile appeared on his face. "Yeah, there should be. I don't think that the hot water has ever run out on me, no matter how long a shower I take," he said.

Nick returned his smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good. I could use a hot shower right about now." He got up and started to walk into the bathroom, but Greg stopped him. "What?"

"You shouldn't bring that suit in there. All of that steam will ruin the fabric," Greg said.

Nick looked down at the suit and then back up at him. "Oh, okay." He handed the suit to Greg who took it and laid it out on the couch. He went into the bathroom and took a quick shower and then came out in much the same state that Greg had.

Greg came out of his room hearing the bathroom door open. "Hmm, I could get used to the image of you coming out of my bathroom half naked," Greg said.

Nick looked up at him. He willed himself not to blush or gape like some child in front of a candy store. If it was even possible, Greg was dressed in something even more provocative than he'd worn on their first meeting. He was wearing a navy blue muscle shirt which should have looked a bit redundant on someone so thin and sinewy, but Greg had more muscle than Nick thought he had on first glance. He was still on the too lean side, but he was solid, something Nick admired. The shirt was made of a material that Nick hadn't come across before. It seemed to cling every dip and line on Greg's torso. His nipples stood out in stark relief. Nick forced himself to look on to something else, quickly. Greg also wore a black studded band around his upper arm on the right. His pants were of a leather that looked butter soft. It was midnight black and expensive, not some pleather substitute that many a club-goer wore and thought that it didn't make a difference. It did. It _really_ did.

Nick walked over to Greg and wiped his hands, making sure that they were thoroughly dry before he picked up the clothes. He frowned. "Damn, I forgot boxers."

Greg stood up. "Don't worry about it. I got you covered." He walked into his room and came out a moment later with a pair of black silk boxers. He handed them to Nick. "They're new," he said. He sat back down.

Nick nodded and thought about where he was going to get dressed. The bathroom was out; it was still steamy from both of their showers. The bedroom was out; it would probably still smell like sex and Nick didn't know if he could handle that right now. The fact that he'd had sex with Greg was slowly sinking in, but he didn't think that he was ready to face the evidence of it. The kitchen was out; it was wide open and lead directly into the living room. He looked down at Greg on the couch.

"Could I get dressed in here?" He asked.

Greg raised his eyebrows. "Sure. Knock yourself out." He settled himself further into the couch.

Nick sighed. "Could you leave?"

Greg raised an eyebrow. "Why? You don't have anything I haven't seen before." He smirked.

"That's not the point. Come on, man."

Greg laughed and got up. "Alright." He walked over to Nick. "Modesty suits you. I don't usually like that in guys, but it works for you," he said. He leaned close and inhaled Nick's scent. He loved the smell of his soap on Nick.

Nick blushed a little.

Smirking again, Greg walked into his bedroom and closed the door, giving Nick his privacy. It would probably be the last time he got any for the rest of the night.

----

The drive to the club was uneventful. There was no music playing, metal, country, or otherwise. Nick and Greg spoke barely a word to each other as Greg drove. What was there to say? 'Good luck?' 'Hope you don't fuck up while you're fucking me?'

Nick watched the surroundings as they passed, memorizing streets and buildings. He knew where the place was, theoretically, but he didn't really know how to get there.

Greg pulled up in front of a rather non-descript building. It was brown with a red neon 'V' flickering over the door.

Nick was surprised at that. He'd pictured people lined up around the block trying to get into the club, bouncers, the whole shebang. There weren't even any car parked on the street. It was nothing like he'd expected.

"This is it?" He asked, not impressed.

Greg looked over at him. "What? Were you expecting the Ritz? It has an exclusive reputation for a reason. Why be flashy on the outside if you don't want the everyday Joe lining up to get in? They don't need the advertisement," Greg said. "Get out."

Nick unbuckled his seatbelt and got out, following Greg up to the door. Once he got closer, he noticed that there was an intercom next to the door.

Greg pressed a button. "5381 and 5380," he spoke into the speaker. He stood back as the door buzzed and then popped open. Greg grabbed the door handle, but didn't go in. He turned to Nick.

"Nick, from here on in, I'm your arm candy. You have to act like you own me, like I'm your property," he whispered in Nick's ear. Nick shuddered as his breath ghosted over the shell of his ear. "We're being watched at all times. Don't let down your guard. Oh, and, in here, people like to share." He turned away from a stunned Nick.

'_Share?' _Nick thought. _'Shit, I hope he doesn't mean what I think he means.'_ Deep down he knew exactly what Greg meant.

Greg pulled open the door and held it open for Nick. Nick stepped in. He watched Greg follow him inside and close the door behind him. The other man seemed to have changed his whole demeanor. He now moved with a cat-like grace, his hips swaying just a little with every step. He exuded sex.

Nick looked around. They were in a short corridor. There was another door at the end of the corridor. The whole place was bathed in red from the red lights installed all along the floor. He was surprised at how quiet it was. He looked up at the ceiling. There was a small camera in the corner above the other door. It was small, so as not to be intrusive. No one who looked for it would know that it was there unless they knew what to look for. He looked at Greg.

"Do we go in?" He asked.

Greg shook his head. "No. we wait." As soon as those words left his mouth, the door opened, letting in a near-deafening roar of music.

Nick flinched. He could have sworn that his ears almost popped.

A young man, probably a bit older than Greg stepped into the corridor. He closed the door behind him, cutting of the onslaught of music. The man was dressed similarly to Greg, in tight and revealing clothing, but he had nothing on the older man. He looked at Nick, ignoring Greg.

"Welcome to The Void," the man said. "You've already been told of the rules and regulations of this club?" He asked Nick.

Nick nodded. He was sure that there was a lot that he didn't know, but he got the gist of everything. He knew the basics.

"Good, good. Follow me, sir." He turned and opened the door again, but this time Nick was ready for the blast of music that hit him.

Nick looked around as he followed the other man into the club. There were well dressed men everywhere. There were also men who were dressed like Greg, some younger, some older, all of them extremely attractive. Some people were partaking in activities that made Nick blush and look away.

The man led them to a section of the club that was a little more quiet. There was a group of couches there, all facing each other in a horseshoe shape, with a shelf running along the back of it which Nick thought must be for drinks. "Will this be okay for you, sir?" The man asked.

Nick nodded.

The man smiled and walked away.

Nick sat down and Greg sat next to him. Greg moved over and sat in his lap facing Nick. He put his arms around Nick's neck and buried his face in his neck, biting and sucking on the tender flesh.

Nick tensed for a moment before he remembered that they were being watched. He lifted up his hands and placed them on Greg's waist.

Greg nipped along Nick's jaw. "You know, you're going to have to open your mouth and say something eventually," he murmured against Nick's skin.

Nick gasped as Greg caught his earlobe between his teeth. "I know that. It's just…this is a lot to take in," he said.

"I know, but you can't be shy and modest here. To them, you're some rich playboy. Act like it." He caught Nick's mouth in a searing kiss.

Nick accepted the kiss. He closed his eyes and eagerly opened his mouth under Greg's, letting his tongue enter his mouth.

Before either of them knew it, they had forgotten all about what was going on around them. Nick's hands traveled lower to cup Greg's ass. He kneaded the perfect globes in his hands. Greg moaned and ground himself into Nick.

Nick was surprised that he was getting hard so soon after cuming not too long ago. He brought his hands back up and put them underneath the waistband of Greg's pants. The task was a little difficult because there wasn't much room for his hands in Greg's tight leather, but he managed to get them in. He continued to squeeze Greg's ass for a moment, before he let his hands travel lower. He spread Greg's cheeks and let his middle finger circle Greg's entrance before pushing it in, dry. He could feel his orgasm nearing.

Greg gasped in pleasured pain as Nick's finger entered him. He silently thanked whatever god there was out there that Nick kept his fingernails neat and short. He pressed his crotch harder into Nick's, trying to get more of the delicious friction between them. He threw his head back as a jolt of pleasure went threw him.

Nick leaned forward and licked along Greg's exposed neck. He kissed and sucked all along the column. Right before he was about to come, he felt Greg jam his hands down the front of Nick's trousers. He buried his face in Greg's shoulder and rode out his orgasm, shuddering and jerking under Greg.

Feeling Nick convulse under him was nearly enough to push Greg over the edge, but he held himself back. He pulled his hand from Nick's trousers.

Nick lifted his head and saw that Greg had a tissue in his hand. "Where the hell did you get a tissue from? You couldn't possibly fit any in those pants," he said, watching Greg ball the tissue up and throw it into a wastebasket that was conveniently located next to the couch they were sitting on.

Greg smiled. "I couldn't very well let you come in your pants, now could I?" He asked. "I've already wrinkled your trousers a little."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Does it really matter?"

"….No, I guess not." Nick removed his finger from inside Greg, and his hands from his pants. "Shit! I forgot to tell you that you could come, didn't I?" He asked.

Greg nodded. "Yeah, but it's okay," he said.

"But I shouldn't leave you like that. I-"

"Good evening, gentleman." Nick looked past Greg and saw a blond man standing outside of the circle of couches with his young arm candy, looking at them. "That was quite a show you two put on," the other man said. Nick tried to hide his blush. He was glad that the club was somewhat dim, despite the flashing lights.

"Yeah?" Nick said. It came out a lot more sure and cocky than he felt. He pushed Greg off of him. He had to play the part. Greg was his arm candy, and he was the sugar daddy. There was no room for cuddling in that equation.

Greg sat on the couch, not minding Nick's rough treatment. He adjusted himself from outside of his pants, making sure the other man saw. The other man's eyes followed his movement hungrily.

"Do you mind if me and my candy join you?" The man asked.

Nick shrugged nonchalantly. "No, I don't mind."

The man moved to sit on the couch to the left of Nick and Greg. His arm candy immediately sat at his feet, wrapping his arm around the older man's leg, not in a show of his possession of the other man, but to show that he belonged to him. He stole leering glances at Nick in silent invitation.

Nick looked back at him, trying not to squirm. The very idea of anyone else touching him other than Greg made him feel odd. He laughed inwardly, remembering that not too long ago, it was the thought of Greg touching him that made him squirm. What a difference a day makes.

"You're new here, right?" The man asked. He looked at Nick with a bit of interest. Nick was a little older than the men he would usually go for, but he was very attractive. He could make an exception on his part. Greg, on the other hand, was right up his alley. Young, a tight little body, and killer looks. He felt himself swell at the very sight of him.

Nick nodded. "Yes. Tonight's my first night," he said.

The man smirked. "Ah, so you're a 'virgin'. Is that a bit of an accent I hear?"

"Yeah. Born and raised in Texas. Oil fortune," he said, smoothly.

The man smiled and nodded. "So, you're not a self-made man? Neither am I. My father is the CEO of a major internet search engine company. The name's Terry Semel," he introduced himself. He offered his hand.

Nick took it. "Nick Blackford." He released the other man's hand.

Terry reached down and petted the young man on his head like he was an actual pet. The young man looked irritated, but was ignored by Terry.

"So, what's your candy called?" He asked, turning his attention back to Greg.

Nick froze. They'd never gone over that. What should he call him? He didn't know his real name. He quickly thought of something. "Canary. I call him my Canary because he sings so prettily when he cums." He put his hand on Greg's thigh.

Terry rubbed himself through his pants, not caring if anyone saw him. "Yeah, I can see that," he said. "Will you sing prettily for me, little Canary?" He asked Greg.

Greg looked over at Nick, asking for permission to take to the other man. Nick nodded, not really knowing if he could say no in this situation. Greg looked back at Terry. "Yes, I'll sing something especially for you," he said, seductively.

Nick felt a jolt of something he couldn't quite put his finger on go through him. He ignored it. "What is yours called?"

Terry looked down and resumed a more gentle petting on the young man. "He hasn't earned a name, yet. For now, he'll go as Ryan. Say hello to the nice man, Ryan."

Ryan licked his lips and looked at Nick. "Hello, sir."

Terry smiled. "That's a good boy." He ran his thumb across Ryan's glistening lips. He leaned down and kissed him in a rather sloppy kiss.

Nick didn't know if he should watch. To be honest, the sight of two man kissing was still slightly disturbing to him. He looked up, seeing the same man from earlier approaching them.

"Excuse me, sir, but someone has requested your presence in a VIP lounge. Would you like to accept their request?" He asked.

Nick swallowed. "Yes, I'll accept."

Terry looked up. "Fuck, I've never gotten invited to the VIP lounge! I've only heard rumors. I'm jealous!" He pouted. It looked ridiculous on a man his age.

Nick stood up and pulled Greg up. They followed the man up the stairs to the second floor of the club. The farther back they went, the more muffled the music got until it was only a dull throbbing of bass in the background. They followed him to a door with a keypad on it. The man took out a card and swiped in through the card slot on top of it. A green light turned on and he opened the door, holding it open for Nick.

"Here you are, sir. Your company should be here shortly."

Nick walked into the room, followed by Greg. The man stayed outside, closing the door behind them. Nick looked over at Greg. He moved in closer to him, not sure if they were being listened to. "Did you expect this?" He whispered.

Greg shook his head. "No, I didn't. I don't think this is good. Newbies don't get invited to places like this. It's way outta your league," he answered.

"Fuck!" Nick hissed. He looked around the room. There were no cameras that he could spot, not like there had been downstairs. No surveillance. Double fuck. That was not a good sign. The room was pretty large. There was a large couch along one wall with a low table in front of it. There was a fully stocked bar in the corner, and adjacent to that was a the biggest plasma TV Nick had ever seen. There was another, smaller couch along the other wall. Everything was done in black and white. There were no windows, only a ventilation duct. One way out. He walked over and looked closely at everything. Everything had a faint dusting of glitter. The same type of glitter that was found on the DBs. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his kit. He collected some of the glitter and placed it into a baggie. He started trying to lift some fingerprints.

Greg watched Nick move around the room, recognizing the looked on the man's face as he collected evidence as one he used to wear on his own. It was a little bittersweet, watching a man who looked as hansom as Nick doing his job so beautifully, when all he wanted to do was snatch away his kit and start collecting evidence himself.

He turned, hearing the door open behind him. His blood froze in his veins as he saw the man that he hadn't seen in six months, the man who had haunted his dreams and nearly every one of his waking moments since then.

"Why, hello, Greg. Fancy meeting you here."

Fuck! They were so screwed!

A/N: BIG thanks to Lonewolfe001 for helping me with the direction of this chapter and all the encouragements. You rock! XD Oh! I have so much to do over the next few weeks; champagne parties, The Long Beach Pride parade (which I go to every year with my fabulously gay friends nn" ), etc. I'm going to be hard pressed to get these chapters out. In case ya'll wanted to know, I listened to T.I.'s **_"Why You Wanna"_** while writing this. **AND, seeing as I've forgotten to say so in the first chapter, the story was actually inspired by an episode of _"Good Eats"_. Go figure.**


End file.
